What Will Always Be
by Meddwl
Summary: Oneshot. Aragorn meets Legolas in Mirkwood, his heart troubled and anxious. A quiet evening with the royal family of the Greenwood brings peace and reminds him of what they guard. Fluff galore.


Aragorn turned his head quickly over his shoulder for the tenth time and for the tenth time he could see no glimpse of what was following him. It was both frustrating and worrisome, to know that you are being followed and yet see no sign of it.

There was a soft sound before him, nearly inaudible beneath the breeze, Aragorn looked forward in an instant and stepped back.

An Elf stood before him, his face turned away towards the winding path, the fall of his golden hair reaching nigh to his waist swaying slightly in the wind. Otherwise he was still as the great beeches about them. Legolas often reminded Aragorn of one of his beloved trees, slender but of great strength, unyielding to the elements, remote and yet eminently present in earth and air, his life running in deep understanding to all of Ennor and its creatures.

So he waited patiently while his friend stared off into the distance. There was an unnatural stiffness about his carriage he now noticed. He laid a gentle hand on the elf's shoulder.

"Legolas, mellon nin?"

The prince turned smiling and clasped his arm.

"What brings you to the Greenwood, Estel? We hold the Autumn feast within the week."

Aragorn frowned slightly at the use of his elven name and understanding flashed through the prince's eyes.

"Elrond has told you" It was statement not a question, "Let us not speak of this until we are within my father's halls."

Aragorn nodded, "It is well, does aught ail you mellon nin, you seem less graceful than usual."

Legolas's smile widened, "Ai, You are ever the pupil of Elrond, I have been injured but it was weeks ago, I am all but healed."

Aragorn did not look completely convinced, he knew that Legolas would tell him if it was serious but that did not mean that he wasn't in pain.

Still he followed the prince without complaint, Legolas was probably the least arrogant Elf he had ever known but he enough pride to feel embarrassed by any unwanted prodding regarding injuries. Little was said as they approached Thorenryth, though Legolas sang softly at times. Between such friends words were not always necessary, to walk beside each other was enough, they were patient.

The great doors swung back at Legolas' command, something that never ceased to fascinate and awe the dunedain, though he knew better to question the Elf. Such things could not be explained, they simply were or were not.

Legolas lead him passed the guards and towards the royal quarters. Aragorn had been within them only once before and was surprised that the prince had walked passed his own chambers. And suddenly he understood, they were going to see the Elvenking.

Aragorn was not quite frightened of Thranduil, certainly he would never admit such a thing. He had been introduced to the Elvenking once before, and he swore by all his twenty years that he had simply never before stood before a more intimidating figure, no he was not scared only respectful.

Entering the door, his memories returned with full force. Thranduil was seated before a low fire in a straight-backed chair. His hair like the prince's caught the light of the fire and reflected it with blinding brilliance.

"Adar" said Legolas, only one word need between these two, such was their love and understanding.

Thranduil turned and Aragorn was once again overwhelmed, it was a fair face that looked towards them. Golden hair hung unbound by any wreath or crown past the carven lines of his cheek-bones. Bright grey eyes so like his friend's in his more regal moments rested lovingly on his son. A noble brow shining with the light and wisdom of the ages, a stubborn chin that told of strength and an unbreakable will. Around it all hung an aura of calm strength, the power that held the darkest forest in Ennor beneath his sway still.

Prince and King stood together their arms wrapped about each other's shoulders, almost they seemed brothers rather than father and son. Legolas' face shone bright and they stood equally tall, both old beyond a human's imagining.

Then the moment passed and Thranduil turned to his son's friend, a smile on that golden countenance.

"You are welcome to Thorenryth, Estel Elrondion."

Aragorn bowed elven fashion, "My thanks Elvenking…" he managed before Thranduil laughed and Legolas joined him.

"There is no need for such formality, though your curtesy does you credit."

Aragorn smiled, Thranduil was overwhelming and best taken in small doses but he was a charming host when he saw no threat to the elves. He dreaded to think of the reception if the king should feel his people endangered.

"Legolas will take you to your rooms, you are welcome to join us after you have refreshed yourself if you wish to do so."

Aragorn inclined his head and followed the prince from the room. It was surprisingly sparse he noticed as they left, the furniture was slender and graceful and the colors muted.

They sat together that night, Thranduil in the low chair, his daughter at his side. Legolas on the floor his golden head resting slightly on his father's knee, Aragorn next to him. It was a beautiful night and Aragorn felt privileged to witness it, Thranduil clearly approved of him if he was invited to such a private affair.

All worries for his identity and impossible love fell away as he listened to three laugh and sing and remember long ago days of peace and plenty. They might have even seemed human but for the light on their faces and the age in their eyes.

He would talk to Legolas about his new found destiny and perhaps to Thranduil as well, but there was always tomorrow. For tonight there was peace and light forever.

* * *

Just fluff and family love. The Elvenking and his children seem to have a dearth of it all too often

Thorenryth means the Hidden Halls, it is my name for the woodelves' fortress/palace.


End file.
